


Holding Tight

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Wordcount: 100-1.000, i can’t believe i ship a pig and a man but it’s 2019 anything’s possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 14:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17327072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: In a serious bout of depression brought on by the rememberance of his Uncle’s death, Noir’s silence is broken by a bright, cartoonish pig who helps him to find himself again.





	Holding Tight

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [you'll survive, certainly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17320976) by [herotoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/herotoon/pseuds/herotoon). 



> Whaddup uhhh the only things I know about Noir and Ham are from Spider-Verse and Spider-Verse fanfic. 
> 
> They’re referenced as Noir and Ham in this fic bc 1) if I call them Peter and Peter I’m going to lose my shit and 2) idk how other people are writing it and honestly i don’t rlly care.
> 
> It’s rlly loosely inspired by universecharm’s fic (linked in notes) because I read it this morning and can’t get these two losers out of my head.

“Yo, Petey d’you wanna— Woah, are you okay?”

Ham can’t help but stare at Noir, his jaw literally dropping to the floor at the sight that greets him as he walks into their shared guest room. His colours seem even more monochromatic than they usually are, and Noir is staring desolately out the window through May’s florally-decorated curtains. He doesn’t even startle when Ham comes in, even though Ham _knows_ his volume is usually enough to give Noir a good _zing_ wherever they go.

“I should go,” Noir says. It’s barely voiced, and Ham wouldn’t have been able to hear him at all if he hadn’t immediately bounded over to Noir’s side.

“What?”

Noir flinches. “I shouldn’t have come here today.”

Ham frowns, and before Noir can react, he tugs a chair out from the desk in the corner of the room to Noir’s side and clambers onto it so that he’s at only a few inches shorter than the masked detective, as opposed to a few feet. “We like it when you’re here,” he says, poking lightly at Noir’s shoulder. “ _I_ like it when you’re here. The Spider Gang wouldn’t be the same without you,” he adds, warm affection colouring his tone when he quotes the name Miles has affectionately given them.

Noir doesn’t respond, so Ham stands on his tiptoes on the chair and wraps his arms around Noir’s shoulders. “C’mon, sweet cheeks. Tell me what’s wrong,” he murmurs, and despite the nickname he usually uses as a joke, he sounds as serious as a cartoon pig can sound.

To his great surprise, Ham isn’t immediately pushed away. He expects it, really; they might share a room when they stay with May in this dimension, but Noir isn’t ever especially tactile. Ham doesn’t push him, but _he_ is also a tactile person by nature, so sometimes he doesn’t think about touching people before he touches them. It just… _happens_.

But this time, Noir doesn’t push him away. Instead, he actually seems to lean into the hug, head bowed slightly. Ham hugs him a little tighter.

“My Uncle Benjamin died six years ago,” Noir finally says. His voice is choked, like he wants to cry but doesn’t know how. Ham rubs his back soothingly. “Today would have been his birthday. I usually… hold a vigil for him. A silent night in my own home. But I thought… he would want me to be here, with you all. He would have liked you all,” Noir adds. He’s _rambling_ , Ham realises with no small amount of fascination. He’s never heard Noir _ramble_ before. “Miles’ invitation tonight was partially… my idea.” He pauses, and in the silence, brings both of his hands up to clutch gently to Ham’s tiny arms, still wrapped tight around him. “I cannot shake the feeling that I’ve done him wrong. This… guilt is not something I’ve felt since his death. I don’t like it.” The last is cut off almost viciously, like Noir had spoken more than he’d meant to, but Ham isn’t deterred from his mission of comfort.

He’s already half-in Noir’s arms already, so he swings his legs up in a fashion that might’ve been comical if it wasn’t practical. Noir catches him automatically, and now Ham is officially in his arms, gazing up into the stoic, reflective eyes of Noir’s mask.

Without speaking, Ham slides his tiny, pudgy fingers under the elastic of Noir’s mask, and waits for a signal that he’s not allowed to continue. When one doesn’t come —Noir is holding him tight, so tight, like he’s afraid to let go— Ham pulls his mask up carefully, so that they’re looking at each other properly, unmasked-face-to-unmasked-face.

Noir’s face is pale, and there are bags under his eyes. His glasses are askew from the mask’s jostling, so Ham fixes them automatically, settling them on his nose and then booping his nose gently, affectionately, in the process.

“I can’t speak for your Uncle,” he finally says, letting his little hand rest on Noir’s cheek, pink bright and strangely out of place against the monochrome shadows of Noir’s normal features. “But I know I can speak for all us Spiders when I say you did the right thing by comin’ here tonight. We love you, Pete. You’re one of us… We’re a family. And if you’re sad, we wanna help.” He smiles encouragingly, and while Noir’s features don’t shift much, Ham can visibly see a line of tension ease as he speaks. “We’ve all lost someone. We all know what it’s like. And you did good tonight. The patrol went well, and we got to hang out with the kids. They love you, babycakes. And so do I.” Ham tosses his arms around Noir’s neck, tugging his head down a little. Noir goes willingly, and Ham rests their foreheads together, his snout lightly brushing Noir’s nose. “If you’re gonna be sad, you might as well be sad with your family.”

Noir is silent for a long, long moment, and Ham has to concentrate hard not to do anything —or let anything cartoonish pop up from outta his head— to ruin the moment. It’s for a good cause, too, because eventually, Noir smiles. It’s a sad smile, but it’s a smile nonetheless, and Ham returns it automatically.

“Thank you,” Noir says quietly, and Ham squeezes him tight.

When May goes about her morning routine to wake the Spider-crew staying with her, she can’t bring herself to disturb Noir and Ham. It’s the strangest thing, but the sight of them cuddled close on their shared bed, holding each other like it’s the end of the world even in sleep, has her smiling fondly and shutting the door again with the softest of _clicks._

**Author's Note:**

> My brain is fried did I really,,, write this
> 
> Kudos/comments are love! Come scream at me on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans.


End file.
